


At home in your arms

by the_writing_owl



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22698277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_writing_owl/pseuds/the_writing_owl
Summary: Sniper and Scout spend a rainy evening together and fluff ensues.(Due to Valentines Day, a sweet, fluffy, short story. Rated “T”, because neither I, nor the characters under my control are able to stop swearing for one goshdarn minute.)
Relationships: Scout/Sniper (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 69





	At home in your arms

The sun was sending its last rays of warmth over the landscape, bravely battling against a low but steady wind. By the time the sky had finally fallen from orange and pink into the deep blue of night, the breeze had abated, leaving only a few dark clouds, that were hiding parts of the star checkered firmament behind their promise for rain.

Soon the drops started to fall, softly and evenly, playing a blithely little song when hitting the metal roof of the camper. Inside, only the light of one small lamp softly illuminated the figures of two men, sitting side by side on the worn out cushions of the sofa booth.

Scout was leaning against his lovers shoulder, the blond head burrowed against the older ones neck, his right hand intertwined with the left of the other. Sniper used his free hand to draw little, invisible patterns on the bare underarm of the Bostonian, only caressing the skin in featherlight strokes, despite the strength his fingers where holding. Completely contend just sitting there with him, feeling the heat radiating off of his body and listening to his deep and steady breath. The Australian was a proficient observer and therefor had figured out quite quickly, how to calm this human bundle of seemingly endless exited energy and vigor. But at the moment this very specific skill of his wasn't even needed, but ”boy wonder” here seemed to be mellow and cuddly enough on his own tonight.

No wonder, work had been extremely busy lately. This was the first evening in almost a week that they could spend alone with each other. A lot of extra meetings and rounds on the training ground due to a losing streak has had significantly cut into the mercynaries free time. Sure, the two of them had managed to sneak in a slight touch here and there, soft words mumbled in the hallway before dinner, even a few swift kisses between battles when they had caught each other alone, but that was hardly enough. Especially for Scout, who missed no chance to tell his boyfriend, that he hardly could wait for it “to be the fucking weekend already” and, as the week grew older and the impacience stronger, that Sniper should “park the Van far enough away from the damn base so this time nobody will get offended over the noise”. The last comment was literally shouted over the runners shoulder while he was heading out for the last round on Friday. Which had left the Sharpshooter with reddening ears under his slouch hat and a whistling team in his back. So, when Sniper did open the doors of his home for him when evening had arrived, it was easy to see his surprise, as his loud mouthed lover just passed him with an innocent peck on the cheek before heading to flunk himself down on the sofa with an exhausted huff. The hunter had just shook his head smiling before sitting down next to him, offering his body as a makeshift pillow.

“So, did I park far enough away for your liking?” Sniper asked after a while, barely able to hide the amusement in his low voice.  
“Yep, this way nobody will hear your snoring.” The Bostonian quipped without missing a beat.  
“Oi!” the older one shot back, “I don’t snore!” He really tried to sound at least a little bit offended.  
“Yeah, sure.” A blond head was raised, revealing a wide, buck toothed grin. “Doesn’t sound like a damn sawmill at all...”  
The Aussi nudged the shorter man amicably, letting go of his hand, just to be able to sling one arm around his lovers shoulders and crossing the other over his body to let his fingers rest on his waist. A deep, unrestrained laugh accompanied the taller ones movements. Scout snuggled deeper in the embrace, feeling the vibrations that coursed through his companions lanky body resonating in his own. The closeness calmed the constant rush of thoughts in his head, melted the tension of a hard day's work from the mercenaries muscles. Moments like this had been far to sparse in his live before. Moments where -quiet- felt right, almost frighteningly easy.  
  
Scout cursed his own pride that bounded him at base so much, that forbade him to seek Snipers vicinity every chance he got, instead of mostly the weekends. He just didn't want to seem needy, or worse, weak and dependent. All things people had told him in the past, had mocked him over for being a sensitive child or an empathetic adult man. But he never once got a weird look or harsh joke from Snipes, not even when he has cought him crying once, way before they were even friends, much less lovers. With him he was able to just be himself. The loudmouthed, bragging, baseball bat swinging, bratty merc, and the guy who secretly liked sappy movies, was a devoted son, wrote shitty song lyrics and disliked the taste of beer with a burning passion. God, he felt so safe with him, it wasn’t even funny anymore.  
“Sniper I...” he began, face leaning against his boyfriends neck again, feeling the others stubble gracing over his forehead when he shifted a little to get more comfortable. “I…” _Fuck_ “I am really glad this week is finally over.”  
Tightening the hug, Sniper gave an approving hum, sending another set of vibrations down his frame. The Runner couldn’t help but sigh. The rain fell more heavily now, tapping against roof and window in a fast, even way. Scout had sneaked one of his hands under the others vest. Stroking the chest and side of his lover. He found a fold in his shirt, pinching it between the knuckles of his index- and middle finger, following the crease up and down in seeming absent mindedness. The Sharpshooters clothes smelled like sun and sand, gunpowder and the cigarettes he sometimes smoked.  
“Mind if you do that again?” he asked, his words half muffled by the way he spoke against the other man's skin.  
Sniper repeated the rubbing motion of his thumb against the shoulder of the other merc, adding a little kneading for good measure. It was a nice sensation but not the one asked for.  
“I meant the humming”, the younger one clarified after a few seconds, voice tinged with a little embarrassment. He couldn’t just tell Sniper out loud that - yes - he liked his voice but also, loved to feel it too. That he felt at ease listening to him, save when he could literally sense it running through himself. That he could just forget the world out there when he was with him in this old, homy Camper.  
“It’s soothing.” he tried himself on an explanation that didn’t sounded all to soft and needy in his ears.  
Scout expected not much in return for his odd request. Maybe a short strum of his vocal cords, or a murmur, perhaps another laugh. What he didn’t expected, was for his lover to start a little song of sorts.

He started with just humming the catchy tune of an often played radio jingle, simply because it was the first thing that popped into his head. In the beginning he had to stop from time to time, to get comfortable with the volume and varying pitch. But after a while, the Aussi just rolled with it, humming every melody that crossed his mind, spinning a little medley of all the old songs he used to whistle back home and Scout lost himself in this safe haven of warmth, sound and smell. In this overwhelming feeling of home.  
“I love you.”

The humming stopped abruptly. _Oh shit..._ The Bostonian could feel his muscles go rigid, how his mouth went dry and a sudden coldness coiled in his stomach.  
“I mean.. I … oh god dammit… I am sorry Snipes! Listen just.. just forget it… I..” he babbled, digging his fingers into his boyfriend's shirt like he was afraid to get shoved away. Freaking hell, their relationship was way too fresh to start talking about such serious shit like love.

Fuck! It had been hard enough to convince "Mister Professional" to even go on a damn date with him. To even try and see if they could be more than just coworkers, than just friends. Scout knew that the hunter had just started to get comfortable with the other teammates knowing about them being “a thing” and what did his dumb ass do? Dropping the freaking L-Bomb just a few weeks into dating.

The runner almost jumped at the feeling of calloused fingers under his chin, gingerly urging him to look up. He only reluctantly met the gaze of the person he really didn’t want to drive away with his hasty confession. The young mercenary was met with a searching look and a genuine smile.  
“I love you too.”

Sniper smelled like sun and the red sand of the desert. Like gunpowder and the cigarettes he sometimes smoked. He tasted like black coffee and liquorice and when he laughed, his voice was like the deep rumble of a far away storm, the ones that brought rain that fell in this thick drops that tapped comforting against your window at night. And he loved him. God damn it, he really loved him.


End file.
